Heartlines
by pierceslopezs
Summary: To say Blaine Anderson struggles with children is an understatement. Future!Klaine


Blaine Anderson did not struggle with children. Nor did Blaine Anderson struggle to feed the squirming boy in his arms.

He made a hasty grab for the plastic spoon that was perched on the dining table before plunging it into the watery mush of vegetables that sat in the pot in his free hand. Scooping up a large spoonful of the pre-digested food, he brought the spoon to his son's mouth, waiting patiently until the boy parted his thin lips. When he received no such movement from the boy, Blaine let out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

"Toby, would you help me out? Just this once?" He pleaded with the boy, but his son merely writhed in his arms, grimacing at the unpleasant meal his father offered him. "Please, Toby? I'm not asking for much, am I? Would you just eat your dinner, kid?" Toby once again frowned in response, turning his pink, runny nose up at the vegetables balanced precariously on the spoon.

"Your daddy is going to kill me." Blaine groaned, attempting one final plead with the boy. He waved the spoon in front of Toby, whose brow was furrowed at the sight of the meal, and beamed as though he was showing his son something that was incomparably delicious.

"Papa!" Toby exclaimed, voice far bigger than himself. His tiny fists balled up before diving into Blaine's hair, tugging his curls free of the thick gel that held them firmly in place. He twisted the dark curls from Blaine's hair, setting them loose while his father's lips curled downwards into a frown of despair.

"Toby! Let go!" Blaine scolded, but his voice was soft and tinged with a quiet gentleness towards his son. "I'm warning you, Tobes. Just because you're adorable doesn't mean you can get away with this." He warned, leaving a light kiss on the scrunched nose of the boy. Blaine raised the arm that was not being used to hold his son and twisted his hand into his hair, unsuccessfully attempting to rearrange his hair back into its original place, where his curls refrained from springing loose.

"Papa! Papa!" Toby repeated in a delighted tone, as it became the only word he could manage as he pulled and toyed with more loosened strands of his father's hair. Eventually, Blaine allowed the spoon to drop from his hand and clatter onto the countertop. He wrapped both of his arms around his son and, with all the might he could muster, lifted him into the air. He supported the boy's weight by tightly curling his hands around his sides, tossing him upwards while Toby screeched indignantly. The boy gave out a squeal of delight as Blaine lifted him further upwards, twirling him into the air. As Toby began to tire of hurtling upwards with apparently no intention of returning, Blaine tentatively lowered him back into his arms and cradled his son against his chest.

"Hungry yet, kid?" Blaine asked softly, though he could already feel the boy drifting quietly to sleep on his shoulder. Toby whimpered into his chest, a small huff of exhaustion escaping his body while he settled against his shoulder, safe in his father's warm arms. Before falling asleep, the boy gave out one more muffled murmur.

"Daddy." Blaine twisted his body to see Kurt standing in the doorway, head resting against the thickness of the door. He stood in the beginning of the kitchen with a smile painted onto his lips, his hands buried deep into his pockets.

"I should leave you with him more often." Kurt said, dropping his briefcase to the floor with a thud. He walked towards his son, who was nestled comfortably into the arms of Blaine, as a soft sigh left his lips. Blaine let out a puff of air in relief at the sight of Kurt moving towards him and allowed his grip on the boy curled into his chest to loosen a little.

"No, you shouldn't. You should be here more often."

"I know. I'm sorry. I won't be working late for much longer, though." Kurt whispered, the guilt at the thought of leaving Blaine alone with _their _son for so long settling painfully on his chest, wrapping around his insides.

"It's all right. You're here now, aren't you?" He said, rocking the boy in his arms until the quiet whimpers against his shoulder finally came to an end. Kurt took a few more steps towards Blaine, before pressing his lips to his cheeks, leaving a chaste kiss on his warm skin. "Besides, if you didn't work as much as you did, we wouldn't have this." Blaine said, eyes flickering to the delicate blue that decorated the thin walls of the room.

"Can you believe it?" Kurt murmured, running a hand through their son's tousled hair, looping his fingers through the curls that were so alike to those that belonged to Blaine. "Can you believe he's ours?" Blaine pressed a kiss to Toby's forehead and turned to Kurt, allowing his lips to tug into a warm smile, one that caused Kurt's chest to twist and pound almost jubilantly.

"He's like you. Stubborn." Blaine chuckled softly, gesturing to the spoon that was coated in the uneaten meal from earlier.

"Stubborn?" Kurt quirked a thin eyebrow at him, though a smirk was forming on his lips. "Where did you get such an idea?" He laughed, the warmth given from Blaine's smile radiating through his entire body. Blaine twisted his hips and caught Kurt's lips in a warm, breathless kiss. Toby once again squirmed, but continued into his peaceful sleep nonetheless.

"What was that for?" Kurt asked as their lips parted, pressing a hand to Blaine's chest.

"I love you." Blaine rasped, his eyes softening at the grin that consumed Kurt's lips. "And I love him. I love that he's ours. That he's our little boy. Our son, Kurt." He breathed, the joy spreading to every fibre of his being.

There, with their son resting contently in Blaine's arms, Kurt realised it was unlikely that there was a happiness that compared to the one he felt in that moment.

"You know, I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life this way."


End file.
